


Childhood Memories

by shieldivarius



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2014 [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Prompt: Childhood Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha reflects on the season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood Memories

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean it's January???
> 
> All of the Melinda/Natasha stories in this year's Femslash Yuletide are in the same universe and chronological unless stated otherwise!

Peace on Earth and goodwill toward men was the theme of the season.

Natasha had precious little—okay, none—of the latter, and as long as there were people around to employ people like her, the former would never exist.

So, sue her if she lacked Christmas spirit.

Still, when she looked out at the crowds that filled the streets during this time of year, Natasha could see hints of that theme glittering as she watched them flock to buy this or that for the people in their lives. _So-and-so would love this, I have to buy it for them._

She touched the scarf around her neck.

Yeah, she got that part.

She didn't often dwell on her apparent  _utter_ inability to buy into American Christmas culture the way that, well, Americans did. There was enough pressure and stress in her life as it was; she didn't need to attempt to meld any more into the cultural climate around her than she already had.

At least, that was what she'd been telling herself.

Natasha could play Domestic American. She had, on more than one occasion, through personas and undercover placements both before and with S.H.I.E.L.D.

And she'd been trying to do it with Melinda, too. If Clint could manage, with Laura and his kids and his farm...

Well. 

He hadn't been raised in a soviet spy grooming program. Her background changed things a little. (A lot.)

And she'd long overcome that background. Learned to work with it and live with it and move forward instead of dwelling so often on what the Red Room program had made her. Had come to terms with the thought that she'd have probably died an orphan on the streets of Stalingrad without the program anyway. (Maybe not, she was resourceful, but how much of that came from her training?)

Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men.

Natasha let an exhaled breath hiss out between her lips. The hot air fogged up the cold window glass in front of her. She wiped away the fug in a wet streak and returned to staring at the nighttime streets outside. Red lights lined up in a mess of traffic in every direction, as far as she could see. She doubted you could hear anything at street level over the honking of car horns as people tried to make their way through the cram of traffic, trying to fight their way to last minute purchases.

She probably needed to figure out what she was going to get Mel for Christmas, since catching the last two members of the Advent Gang didn't seem like a gift that was going to play out.

Less than twenty four hours to go, and she'd already wasted the restaurant meal idea on a lunch date. So that was out.

A practical gift, like a weapon, didn't seem particularly fitting, either. Even if all she and Melinda seemed to do was work. That made it more inappropriate, maybe.  _I only like you for how well we work together_ , is what a practical gift would say.

Since it wasn't true—and it made her feel the tiniest bit uncomfortable to admit that—she didn't want to do anything that might make Melinda think it, at all.

Back to the Advent Gang, then, and back to the apartment in time for Christmas dinner.

Which she should probably arrange, since she knew neither of them were going to cook it.

Chinese takeout would work for that, though, right?

Natasha rested her forehead against the coolness of the window pane.

As long as she didn't waste any of it, a day was plenty enough time for her to work everything out. She'd make the pieces fall into place. 

The contagion of the cheer of the season might've infected her, just a tiny little bit. 

Natasha was okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
